


The Boy Who Knew

by yaymikeyway



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, frank has a brother, frank has powers, gerard is an angel, pessimistic frank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 03:37:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12050490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yaymikeyway/pseuds/yaymikeyway
Summary: Frank, a strange kid with powers beyond this world, meets a tender-hearted boy in a coffee shop with secrets of his own.





	The Boy Who Knew

It was cold. Bitterly cold. Cold like you-can-already  
-feel-your-fingers-and-toes-turning-black cold. However, it's always cold like this in October in Washington.  
I come here every day to get a cup of piping hot, practically chewable coffee grounds in some water. Well- I'm being harsh- the coffee here isn't that bad. It's just… not the best. Not by far.  
My ‘friends’, the two people who sit adjacent to my table in the corner of this little café, aren't here today. I wonder why. Maybe Suzanne finally hired that hitman to get rid of Alan like she was thinking about three months ago. Or maybe Alan pulled the plug on his dying father like he's been planning to do for the past year or so. Ever since he went under the knife and no one told the doctor he was allergic to the medication they gave him for the pain, he fell into a coma. Oh well. It's not like he was father-of-the-year for Alan, either.  
Anyway, it's not like they know who I am. Or what I know. Or what I can do. It should probably stay that way, too. No one can know what I know. No one else in this world is stable enough to see what I've seen.  
♤.♢.♡.♧  
Every day is the same. Except for today. Today, a boy wandered in from the swirling cold, snowflakes wisping in around him. My mind immediately tried to read him, but it came up empty. Nothing was in that box over his head. No text, no big red Xs telling me that he had a gun or anything out of place. I have to admit, I froze. I stopped completely, nearly dropping my coffee on me.  
The man taking orders, Ray, poofy hair bouncing as he spoke, asked him about his coffee of choice. He ordered the same as me. A tall, hot, light and sweet, one shot of espresso. He smiled shyly the man, and, of course, came right over to me and sat at the “Lover’s” table. I held my breath, even still the scent of peaches and winter crept into my senses, making my eyes close automatically and a peaceful aura absorb into my being.  
A series of images floated into my head during those first few seconds. A cityscape lit up at night. An empty field with birds flying above the grass. A parking lot, void of people and all light apart from a single street lamp lighting up a small area…  
I opened my eyes, blinking rapidly as I realized how strange that was. I shook it off, still in tune with the boy's movements. He shifted his arm, revealing a name scribbled onto the cup.  
‘Gerard’.  
I smiled. It fit him perfectly.  
It was written in the same style as my own, the rather large ‘F’ and the rest, ‘rank’, shy and smaller by comparison. I've always liked my name. My mother hated it, it was my dad's idea. With my brother, it was just the opposite.  
Frank Anthony Iero, now 23, perfect smile, perfect pale cheeks, perfectly soft, poofy hair.  
Perfect, perfect, perfect. All my mother ever said to me. Ironic, really. I'm the farthest thing from perfect.  
Elijah Ethan Iero, 18, outcast, to always be excluded, the disappointment of the family.  
Jakob never grew past 5’7. When I was his age, I was already almost 5’9. He was my older brother at the time, and I loved him. We were only four years apart, but he always made it seem like a lot more.  
It's kind of funny that ‘Ethan’ means enduring, and ‘Anthony’ means brave. Elijah’s fate seems to have been braver than anything.  
My older brother is dead. He died eight years ago in a fight with a robber trying to steal our house/car. After our father left and our mom died, we lost our apartment and we had to live in his small car with just over a hundred dollars that Elijah had stashed away. He wanted to buy a new car, funny enough, and we ended up running our funds dry in just over a year. I had a part-time job working at a kennel in the summer and spring; school wasn't an option. Elijah taught me from his old textbooks and I tried to get as much knowledge crammed into my stubborn head as I could. I knew it was all I would get, and I was okay with that. I learned things like reading and writing skills- I had had other schooling, I was just starting my freshman year of high school when Mom died- but mostly he taught me how to talk to people and not get myself killed doing so.


End file.
